


Stay

by KillerQueen20



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Is Trying (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), Aziraphale is Not Oblivious (Good Omens), Aziraphale is a Mess (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), Declarations Of Love, Fear, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Implied Sexual Content, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Love Confessions, M/M, One Night Stands, Out of Character, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:22:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22216249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KillerQueen20/pseuds/KillerQueen20
Summary: "Stay, stay tonight, stop running away and stay with me only once." Aziraphale askedAnd then, Crowley decided to stay the rest of his life.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 132





	Stay

Anthony J. Crowley was a demon. Of course, his criminal record had so many sins! Yes, without a doubt, a long list of flaws and yet that would not change the fact that once again he had dawned at his side, just as he always did in his fantasies.

He didn't even bother to see around that room when he woke up, he already knew the place quite well; It was not the first time he woke up there, with his arms around his body, covered with his sheets and inhaling deeply his fragrance, keeping as always that remembrance in his memory, in order to cherish it in his moments of vehement loneliness.

He could hide that truth from anyone, but he was not able to deceive himself: he knew very well how much he enjoyed every minute by his side. From the little talks, he could keep with him to the magnetism of his beautiful blue eyes that attracted him to a chaste kiss and that finally led him, crashing into the walls, to the angel's bed, where the angel fell into a state of lust and lust and their passions were completely unleashed.

But even when he enjoyed the pleasures of his company so much, in more than one area, he couldn't avoid the instinct of escape in each of those mornings. That could be considered one of his greatest flaws, he felt certain cowardice that wouldn't allow him to face what he had in front of his eyes.

He picked up his clothes scattered throughout the room and while he finished with his dressing task he couldn't help looking at his night companion. Aziraphale remained lying down; his eyes closed, his deep breathing, his blonde hair unruly against the white pillow and one that another reddish mark stood out on his pale skin.

That detail, that of the strokes that his lips had made on the neat canvas of the angel's skin, caused him a sense of satisfaction engendered in the depths of his subconscious.

He felt the irredeemable desire to stay and discover what it would be like to see him wake up one morning, even if only once; He wanted to know how he would look at him, what he would say, what he would feel and what consequences it would entail. He knew that if he left, they would act as if nothing had happened, knowing that they would always end up in the same situation; but he had no idea what would happen if he decided to stay for the first time and risk everything.

He was already one step away when he returned his sight to Aziraphale and wanted him to wake up at that moment to stop him right there, to look at him with those indigo orbs and ask him (or demand, he didn't care) to stay and not run away like a coward

But that didn't happen and he sighed with resignation, disappointed in his cowardice, before closing the door of the room and leaving for his apartment as was became a custom.

When Aziraphale woke up, the other side of the bed was already cold, as if there had never been the warm body of his occasional passion partner. It's not like he expected anything else, after all, that was part of the nonverbal agreement, right?

However, even so, he wondered why that strange sensation, similar to disappointment, invaded his chest every time he noticed the absence of the demon by his side.

He sat on the bed, still remembering each of the caresses that the other with unspeakable fieriness had given him the night before and very secretly, yearning to be able to feel those caresses in his body for the rest of his existence.

As on all occasions when he was in such a situation, he felt a strong oppression in his heart while the feeling of abandonment was established deep within his soul; no morning was as cold as those in which he woke up with only the memory of his kisses and resigned not to change that reality for not being brave enough.

He took a long shower, waiting for the water to erase the path his hands had followed, to taste his lips on his own and the scent of his perfume that he now felt permeated in his body.

Each time it cost him a little more and he felt that, although he had already fallen into the sin of lust, fear and cowardice continued to run through his veins to express to Crowley that what he felt for him went beyond a passion of one night.

Would that be the only way he would ever be by his side? He questioned himself with the steaming cup of tea in his hands, everything indicated that "Yes" That was the only answer he could get and although he tried not to pay attention to it he felt hurt.

He pushed his tea aside, leaving the cup in front of him at the table, and took his cell phone, a gift from Crowley, who gave it to him despite his misgiving with the use of technology with the excuse of staying keep on touch with him. He scrutinized his cell phone anxiously and made a grin of apprehension when he saw that there wasn't a single message nor a call from Crowley, absolutely nothing, not even a "thank you" from him.

He wanted to write something, but what would he say?

"He is just an ungrateful demon," thought Aziraphale's treacherous mind, believing that it would be better to blame the demon for his cowardice than to admit that his own fear was the obstacle that prevented him from reaching what he longed for since the first time the demon touched with libidinosity his skin.

Well, maybe he was also a little guilty of that devious story between Crowley and him, that up to that point it had only had adventures of only one night, but deep down, Aziraphale perceived that the demon harbored feelings towards him, feelings that were more than just lust and physical attraction.

He didn't want to continue that way, he would have to approach Crowley and talk with him clearly and directly. He wasn't willing to continue waking up in an empty bed after such pleasant nights, even if it was the last thing he did in his life, he would get that demon to stay by his side, not just one night, all his life if he wanted to.

It was already noon on Saturday, he had absolutely nothing to do, so he took the phone and called the man who could not get out of his head since he woke up without him that morning.

"Hi?" Crowley's voice was somewhat surprised, after all, it was unusual for Aziraphale to be the one to call him, in general, much less on days like that.

"Crowley! Do you have plans for tonight?" Aziraphale's voice sounded so jovial and full of an infrequent firmness that was not normal in its indecisive nature "Excellent! He exclaimed before the other one even answered him. "I'll wait for you here at seven o'clock, you know the way."

And so, as soon as he finished speaking, he cut the call. Crowley sighed and felt his legs tremble, he did not expect those sudden "plans". He couldn't wonder about that, it wasn't often that the angel asked him so suddenly to meet and doubts only increased when the blond seemed to avoid at all costs answering his messages throughout the afternoon.

When he touched the surface of the door with his knuckles he couldn't help thinking about how many times he had been right there, both as a friend and a bed partner, feeling frustrated that his attempts to be something else always ended in failure or even without being consummated.

A few seconds passed before he heard the hurried steps on the other side of the door, then it opened and he found the pair of eyes he was used to evading

He didn't even have the chance to issue a word, the other's arms crossed behind his neck and the "claim" he already imagined he would hear interrupted him.

"I gave you a key for you to use," Aziraphale looked at him reproachfully, though he was amused that all the reliance that 6000 years of relationship brought with it, vanished at moments like those. He continued reprimanding him tenderly as he led him inside the place, closing the door once they were both inside the bookstore.

He didn't know very well what to expect. In the first place, he didn't know what he was waiting for when he went to his apartment, both the intentions of the other and his own seemed unclear, really unknown. He had guided him to the sofa, sitting next to him so close that one could almost say he was above him in a very literal sense.

"Aziraphale, What's wrong?" Because it wasn't normal for Aziraphale to look at him with such eagerness, to remain silent when his face showed that there was something he wanted to say, neither was the way he didn't take his hand away from his.

The whistle of the kettle notifying that the water was already boiling saved them from that moment of tension, the blond rose quickly and Crowley could only hear his busy movements in the kitchen; the clinking of the porcelains against each other, the steps of Aziraphale that went from side to side and the low murmurs of his voice, probably reproaching himself for having forgotten to do something. He smiled slightly almost without being aware because the simple picture of seeing Aziraphale doing anything was enough to make him feel joy.

They didn't sit side by side at the table, but face to face, he had decided that everything would be cleared there and at that precise moment. Yes, at that precise moment ... Maybe after adding some more sugar to his tea.

"Crowley," Aziraphale called in a trembling voice, getting the demon to turn all his attention to him for a moment, he must say it now. "... More sugar?

In the end, he didn't have enough courage to tell him the words he wanted while facing each other. "Great, Aziraphale, you are a coward!" The heavenly being reproached himself. He had invited Crowley with only one purpose: to clarify things between them. He just had to do one thing and he was failing horribly.

They went from tea to dinner and from there to the room where they started an impromptu "marathon" of movies. The atmosphere was absolutely far from being tense, even so, Aziraphale couldn't help feeling nervous about the fact that he still didn’t dare to say a word about the subject he so longed to talk about.

On television, the Titanic was seen sinking, just as he was doing. "Crowley, listen," he spoke suddenly, fixing his gaze on the redhead and gathering courage where he thought there was not a gram left; and yet it went blank. What was he supposed to tell him? It was there that he realized that he had nothing prepared. He had been doing a drama in his mind and he didn't even have the words he wanted to say, he felt like an idiot.

"Angel...? "Crowley was going to ask him if he was well, it was unusual for him to shut up so suddenly after getting his attention, it wasn't usual for him to ever do so but a pair of lips against his prevented him from successfully formulating his question.

Aziraphale, having run out of words had not come up with anything better than that, just put his hands on his companion's cheeks and joined his lips, which would give him time to think. Or that was supposed to be because once the redhead's hand landed on the back of his neck and that superficial lip contact he had started turned into a lustful kiss, his mind returned to the same emptiness as before.

And before either of them could take the situation in their hands before anyone could go against the desires that flourished at the touch of their skins, they were already plunged into the deepest hell of their passions; feeling in paradise while sinning lust.

That night the demon noticed two things; the first was that no matter where they started they always ended up in Aziraphale's bed, the second was that honestly, it wouldn't bother him to spend the rest of eternity in that place, as long as he had the angel by his side.

Both were lying and half covered in the mess of white sheets, they said not a word, much less made any sudden movement; Aziraphale just hugged him, face against the other's chest, thinking about a thousand things and at the same time not focusing on one of them.

He ended up thinking about his height difference and that he was about one inch shorter than the other. That little curious fact always made him laugh. And laughing he remembered what had brought them together that day: he and his emotions not yet declared.

Both enjoyed spending time side by side beyond carnal desire; Aziraphale had convinced himself of that. Their talks were pleasant and fruitful, they had few things in common and yet they always managed to live harmoniously; and when they had nothing to talk about, they talked about petty things, listened attentively to each other's story about their day, the stories of their past, the frustration caused by one thing or another. And when they didn't talk, they enjoyed being together, still outside in silence, side by side watching a movie, at the theater, or just casually brushing their hands under the table at their various appointments at the Ritz.

The caresses on his blond strands provided by the demon interrupted his thoughts; Did he always do that? He wanted to know and knew that the answer was probably "yes", that while he slept, Crowley played affectionately with his hair every time. He smiled and closed his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy that for a moment before speaking.

"Crowley," he called suddenly, noting how the other's body tensed and the passing of his fingers by his hair stopped, the demon had assumed he was already asleep.

Crowley felt the panic run through him, he was not prepared for something like that, he felt overwhelmed, terrified and only managed to let out the first words he was able to formulate. "I have to go."

He announced at the same time that he was getting rid of the grip of the arms of the other around him to get out of the bed, taking those clothes of his that he found; all under the confused look of the angel. He began to dress in a hurry as if he was being late for an important commitment. "It's more like he wants to run away" was all Aziraphale thought.

He followed, placing himself behind him on the soft mattress and hugging him from behind; He rested his head on the demon's shoulder and finally dared to say the words he would have liked to say every night, or that he would have liked not to have to pronounce at all:

"Stay," that request took him by surprise, but Aziraphale continued speaking without caring about anything else. "Stay tonight, stop running away and stay with me only once."

The bewilderment in the demon was replaced by a smile. He put aside the work of dressing and turned around to meet the other, with his pleading gaze and his blond ruffled hair; He took his face in his hands and noticed that he had never carried out that action with such sweetness. He kissed him with love, reclining both, hugging and still looking into each other's eyes with a silent joy permeated.

"I'll stay a lifetime if that's what you want," he said, and that statement did nothing but put a smile on Aziraphale's lips.

That was the invitation he had wished to hear every morning, it was all he needed to put aside his cowardice and dare to discover what it would be like to see those orbs open in the morning. He would choose to stay, and if his relationship changed after the next dawn, he was sure it would be for the better.


End file.
